


going with his gut

by Spikedluv



Category: The Trixie Belden Mysteries - Julie Campbell Tatham & Kathryn Kenny
Genre: Community: smallfandomfest, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 18:09:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19446835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/pseuds/Spikedluv
Summary: Mart sees something strange late one night and has a gut feeling that something isn’t right.  Trixie sends Dan Mangan, now an officer with the NYPD, to help Mart out with his hunch, not knowing that something happened between Mart and Dan five years ago.  Can they get past the awkwardness to find out what’s going on in a small upstate New York community, and maybe solve the matter of their own relationship?





	going with his gut

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brumeier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/gifts).



> Written for Small Fandom Fest on DW for the prompt: _Trixie Belden Mysteries, The (Julie Campbell Tatham & Kathryn Kenny), Mart/Dan, future!fic_.
> 
> Many thanks to Brumeier for introducing me to this fandom. I'd read the books when I was younger, but hadn't imagined reading or writing fanfic for them until her Mart/Dan stories came to my attention. If you see any similarities with her stories, it's because her backstory for the boys is pretty much my canon. *g*
> 
> Written: July 2, 2019

Mart Belden had the radio turned up and the window cracked in an attempt to stay awake until he got home and could crawl into bed. He’d been out to dinner and a movie with Kyle, a guy he’d met online, and it was already past midnight. It had been a struggle to make their first date because of distance (Kyle lived an hour away in Guilderland) and the unpredictable hours of a farm hand.

They’d already cancelled twice, once because of an emergency birth (Dottie and her calf were both doing fine now) and the second time because of a tractor break-down. Third time was supposed to be the charm, but Mart almost wished he’d spent his night off at home with a book (Trixie had sent him a biography of Alexander the Great for his birthday back in June that Mart hadn’t had a chance to start yet because summer and autumn were busy seasons and by the time he got back to the cottage he only had enough energy to get something to eat and take a shower before face-planting on the bed) and a mushroom and pepperoni pie from the Sawyerville General Store.

A dump truck pulled out of a field at the Gunderson farm as Mart drove past. It wasn’t unusual for farmers to be chopping corn after dark this time of year, but it was unusual in that it was so late and because Nils Gunderson didn’t usual plant corn in those particular fields. Additionally, the box was smaller than those normally used to haul chopped corn. Even so, Mart wouldn’t have paid much attention if the driver hadn’t nearly blinded Mart with his headlights on bright as he pulled onto the road.

Luckily the truck turned east on Route 7, so Mart didn’t have to deal with the brights in his rearview mirror, at least. A few miles down the road Mart pulled into the long driveway leading to Maple Ridge Farm. He drove past the stone farmhouse and pulled up to the small cottage that used to be the summer kitchen when the house was first built back in 1802. It had since been expanded and was once used as an in-law apartment.

Mart parked his pick-up in front of the cottage and turned off the engine. A shadow moved on the tiny front porch and resolved itself into Jelly. (Short for Jelly Bean; in his defense, the Mason kids had been three and four-years old when they’d named him.) Jelly was one of several dogs that called the farm home, but he’d taken a shine to Mart (and he to Jelly) when he was little more than a puppy, so he spent most nights on Mart’s bed.

Jelly met Mart at the truck door and Mart gave him a good pet in greeting while Jelly sniffed him to see where he’d been and tried to lick his face. After all the excitement of Mart’s homecoming, Jelly found a bush on which to relieve himself, then followed Mart up the front steps and into the cottage.

Mart poured a glass of water to set on his night stand and joined Jelly in the bedroom, where he was already scratching at the protective sheet covering the quilt and turning in circles on the bed. Mart left Jelly to it and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. By the time Mart’s head hit the pillow he’d forgotten about the dump truck.

~*~

Since he didn’t need to get up early to milk the cows the next morning, Mart slept in until 8am. He made himself coffee and a breakfast of cheesy scrambled eggs and toast, then stepped outside to see what was going on. It was still technically his day off, but it was too beautiful a fall day to spend inside playing Mario Kart.

Joyce Mason was unloading bushel baskets of winter squash from the back of the farm pick-up. Mart jogged over to help.

“Mart, hi,” Joyce said when she saw him. “Isn’t today your day off?”

“Yeah.” Mart grabbed a basket. “But I don’t want to spend it inside.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to spend it helping me.”

“I don’t mind.” It wasn’t as if he had other plans. Sometimes on his days off he went to some of the local hiking trails, but he’d have needed to get an earlier start to feel confident that he’d make it back in time for the night milking.

Mart set the basket down under the lean-to where Tanya, the eldest at 9-years old now, was cleaning off the squash and placing them in the correct bin. “Morning,” Mart said.

“Morning,” Tanya said with a bit of a pout.

Mart figured she’d rather be off riding Chestnut than helping with the vegetable stand. (Chestnut was _not_ in fact a chestnut. She’d been named after the horse chestnut trees that grew behind the house. Tanya still chuckled whenever she explained it to someone – get it? She’s my horse. Chestnut. The nut didn’t fall far from the tree there. Pun totally intended.)

Mart had been impressed with Maple Ridge Farm when he’d come out to interview for a summer position near the end of his junior year at SUNY Cobleskill. A lot of farmers weren’t doing so good these days, the price of milk being what it was, but the Masons had seemed to be doing pretty well.

Part of the reason for that, Mart learned, was because the farm had been in the family for generations, so there were no outstanding mortgages on the property. The other reason was because the Masons had diversified. Instead of merely relying on milk sales, they also sold hay, raised chickens and sold the eggs, ran a vegetable stand during the summer and fall, and sold pancakes in their sap house January through March, where they also sold the maple syrup that was made from the trees for which the farm was named, as well as maple-flavored treats, such as candies and cotton candy.

One of the best things for Mart about working there was that everyday was different. He’d been hired for the summer and kept on during his senior year. When Bob Mason offered him a full-time job after graduation, Mart jumped on it. He wasn’t as close to Sleepyside as he thought he’d be once he finished college, but two and a half hours wasn’t far enough that Mart couldn’t make the trip home for a couple days when he was missing Moms and Dad, and see whoever else happened to be visiting. And it had the benefit of being farther away from New York City.

After the pick-up was unloaded Mart headed to the barn. The cows had already been let out and Bob was scraping off their beds while the gutter cleaner ran. Mart talked to Bob for a few minutes until the man sent him off to do something with the rest of his day off. Mart hadn’t yet carved a pumpkin, and it was almost Halloween, so he stopped by the vegetable stand on his way back to the cottage and laid down a five for a large pumpkin.

Joyce protested, but Mart left before she could return the money. Jelly raised his head and gave Mart a look, but didn’t get up from where he lay in the sun with Billy the Goat – the blame for that name lay squarely on Bob’s shoulders – when Mart didn’t call him.

Mart spread newspaper over the kitchen table and proceeded to cut a hole in the top of the pumpkin and scoop out the guts. He separated the seeds to roast later and set the rest of the innards aside for the compost pile.

Mart used his phone to look up designs for the pumpkin. He decided on one and drew it onto the pumpkin before he started carving. It looked good enough when he was done that Mart took a photo and sent it to Trixie. He set the carved pumpkin outside on the porch and cleaned up the mess he’d made.

Mart threw together a ham and Swiss sandwich for lunch and ate in front of the television. He watched two episodes of ‘Star Trek: Discovery’ before the late night took its toll and he fell asleep on the couch. When Mart started awake it was already 4:30pm. He had half an hour to clean up his lunch dishes and get ready to head to the barn.

Milking started at 5pm and it took two hours by the time Mart had finished the milking and cleaned the milkers and pipeline. Afterwards Mart showered, then heated up a plate of lasagna from a care package Moms had sent him. The taste of it reminded him strongly of home, and for a moment Mart wished he wasn’t such a coward.

After dinner Mart checked his e-mail, ignored the notifications he’d gotten from the dating app, commented to a post Bobby had made to Facebook, and got lost down a Tumblr rabbit hole. When Mart surfaced it was 9pm and time for bed. 5am came early.

~*~*~*~

Between morning and night milkings and cleaning the barn, Mart spent the next few days helping to harvest some more of the squash and alternating chopping corn with Bob. At the end of the day he barely had enough energy to make himself something to eat before vegging out in front of the television for an hour or so before heading to bed.

Tonight Mart sliced up a sweet potato he’d gotten from the Mason’s farm stand, mixed them with oil, seasoning and grated Parmesan. He placed them, along with some chicken tenders he’d marinated in Italian dressing, onto a cookie sheet and put them in the oven to bake while he showered.

After he was dressed in comfortable sweats and a t-shirt to lounge around the house, Mart flipped the chicken and got out a plate and flatware. While his supper finished cooking, Mart started a bowl for Jelly. He put in some wet dog food and would cut up a tender when they came out of the oven.

Mart turned on the television and tried to decide whether he wanted to watch the end of ‘Wheel of Fortune’ or flip through the channels to find a mindless movie. A look at the guide determined that ‘Expendables 3' was playing. Mart had only seen bits and pieces of it, so explosions it was.

Jelly was laying on the kitchen floor. He knew it was almost suppertime and he didn’t want Mart to forget him. As if that would ever happen the way Jelly shamelessly begged for morsels off Mart’s plate even after he’d been fed. (Mart had learned the hard way to never walk away and leave his plate unattended.)

After his weekly call home at 8pm it was time to hit the sack. Mart tried not to think about how he was missing the annual haunted house and hay ride as he got ready for bed. Mart loved these weekly calls, getting to hear his parents’ voices, but he was also starting to hate them because they highlighted how homesick he sometimes felt, being here all alone, his friends and family spread out, but all of them closer to Sleepyside than he was. Mart sighed. And he’d always claimed that Trixie was the stubborn one.

~*~

Mart had been sent to town on Thursday with a list from Joyce and Bob. He was in Agway when he overheard the man two people ahead of him in line request that his purchases be put on the account of Nils Gunderson. Mart looked up from the list he was reviewing to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything and studied the man.

Mart had heard that Gunderson had defied the auction rumors and took on a full-time hired man less than a year ago. Now the sight of that very hired man reminded Mart of the truck he’d seen pull out of the field late Saturday night.

Mart finished up at Agway then hit Tractor Supply and Price Chopper (for his own groceries). On the way home Mart stopped at Stewart’s to pick up ice cream for the freezer and a cone to eat on the way home. He slowed down as he approached the Gunderson farm and on a whim turned into the driveway.

Mart checked the barn first. He immediately noticed that the pipeline, a newfangled idea when Gunderson’s father had put it in, but was showing wear by the time Mart worked there forty years later, had been removed and replaced with a milking parlor. That must’ve been an expensive project, especially with the barn remodel necessary to house it. Mart checked the milk house and the silo room, noting a new bulk tank and motorized feed cart.

Mart checked the shed and found a new tractor. His stomach began to feel like it was filled with lead. Mart’s next stop was the house, but before he reached it a pick-up pulled in the driveway. The driver was the man Mart had seen at Agway. He pulled the truck around and got out.

“Hi,” Mart said, heading over.

“Can I help you?” The man’s tone sounded pleasant, but something about his eyes put Mart off.

“I’m Mart Belden,” Mart said, stepping closer to the man as he extended his hand. You could tell a lot about a man from his handshake. “I used to work here when I was in school.”

“Ted Wilkins,” Ted said, almost grudgingly. He gripped Mart’s hand as if he didn’t know how hard he should squeeze and let go as quickly as he could.

“Nice to meet you, Ted,” Mart lied. “I was looking for Mr. Gunderson. Is he around?”

“He’s not,” Ted said, then seemed to realize that he needed to say more. “He went to visit his daughter.”

“That’ll be nice for him,” Mart said. “Any idea when he’ll be back?”

“Not ‘til the weekend,” Ted said. “He went out for the week.”

“Okay. Well, when you see him, will you tell him I stopped by? I’ll try to catch him sometime after he returns.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him,” Ted said politely enough, but Mart felt the man’s gaze boring a hole in the back of his head as he pulled out of the driveway onto Route 7.

Mart tried to come up with an explanation, but between the truck he’d seen, the expensive new equipment, and Ted’s odd behavior, Mart couldn’t help thinking that something strange was going on. He wondered if this was how Trixie felt when she got one of her hunches.

When he got back to Maple Ridge Farm, Mart unloaded his purchases from the back of the pick-up, helped with the horses, and did the milking, which didn’t leave much time for thinking about what might be going on with Nils Gunderson.

~*~*~*~

The next morning while they were scraping the stalls and the floor, and putting down fresh lime and sawdust, Mart asked Bob about Gunderson’s turn of fortune.

“Don’t know much,” Bob said. “Nils is pretty closed-mouthed about it. One day there were rumors he’d have to auction off the herd and retire, the next he was laying down a cashier’s check on a new tractor. It’s even odds on an inheritance or someone gave him a loan. Don’t know who’d do that, though. Word was he was pretty well played out.”

Bob gave Mart a look. “Why the sudden interest?”

“I’ve been thinking about him lately,” Mart said. He didn’t say why, but he did tell Bob about his visit to the farm yesterday. “There was an awful lot of new equipment for somebody who was this close . . .” Mart held his thumb and index finger less than an inch apart for emphasis. “. . . to losing everything.”

Mart did some more scraping in silence. When he was close enough to Bob again to speak without yelling, Mart said, “Have you met his new hired man?”

“Ted Wilkins? Most folk around here have heard of Ted. He’s a local boy. Got himself into all kinds of trouble as a kid. I was kind of surprised to hear that Nils hired him, to be honest.” Bob studied Mart. “He do anything?”

Mart shook his head. “Just a feeling I got when I was talking to him.”

During his lunch break Mart called Trixie. “Hey, Beatrix,” he said when Trixie answered the call. “Do you have a minute for me to run something past you?”

“Not if you’re going to call me Beatrix,” Trixie said tartly.

Mart laughed at the expected reaction. “It’ll be your turn to laugh when I tell you why I’m calling,” he said. Mart ripped off the bandaid and continued. “I’ve got a bad feeling about something. What you might call a hunch.”

Trixie squealed. Mart pulled the phone away from his ear, but not quickly enough.

“Okay,” Trixie said, back in control of herself. “I’m all ears. Spill.”

Mart told Trixie what he’d seen and of his suspicions. “Tell me I’m reading too much into this.”

“You could be reading too much into the situation,” Trixie said, “but you’re the last person I know who’d jump to conclusions, so it’s probable that something fishy is going on. You know the people involved so your brain might subconsciously be making connections and waiting for you to figure it out.”

“Figure _what_ out?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?”

“I don’t suppose you have time to come up for a visit so you can check it out?” Mart said hopefully.

“You don’t know how much I’d like to see you working a hunch, but we’re in the middle of a case that’s about to break wide open and I can’t leave right now.”

Mart made a sound of frustration.

“But I have an idea.”

Mart recognized that tone of voice. He sat up, his entire body going on alert. “What kind of idea?”

“Don’t worry,” Trixie said. “I’ve got the perfect solution.” Trixie made some kissy noises, said, “Love you, bro,” and hung up before Mart could question her further.

Mart only had a moment to wonder what he’d gotten himself into before he had to get back to work.

~*~*~*~

After milking and cleaning the barn by himself because Bob was out chopping the rest of the corn for the silo, Mart hauled some bales of hay into the pasture and tossed them into the feeder.

When Mart was putting the farm pick-up away he noticed a strange car parked behind his own pick-up in front of the cottage. Mart frowned; he didn’t get many visitors and he wasn’t expecting any today.

Jelly met Mart as he headed towards the cottage, bouncing around Mart’s feet in excitement – either because of company or the prospect of food – and then running ahead and coming back as if urging Mart to move faster.

Joyce stopped Mart as he passed the stone farmhouse. She pushed open the screen door that led into a mud room that opened into the kitchen. “Mart! Your company’s in here. I saw you headed out with the hay, so I invited him in for a cup of coffee.”

Mart changed direction. “Thanks, Joyce.”

Him, Mart thought. Jim was a long-shot, but maybe Brian or Bobby? The last person Mart expected to see after he wiped his feet and stepped into Joyce’s kitchen was Dan Mangan. Mart’s feet froze and all the questions that swirled in his head about why his visitor showed up out of the blue flew out of his head.

The fluttering sensation in his belly was solely because Mart had been doing his best to avoid Dan since that summer after freshman year and not because Mart couldn’t help but notice how good Dan looked.

Dan stood next to the scarred kitchen table, his fingers pressed to the top so hard they were white. “Hello, Mart.”

“Dan,” Mart said, his mouth going dry.

“Can I get you a cup of coffee, Mart?” Joyce said, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room.

“No, thank you, Joyce.” Mart made himself speak normally. “Okay if I take an early lunch?”

“Of course,” Joyce said. “In fact,” she said with a tone and smile that made Mart squirm, “why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off.”

“That’s not necessary . . .”

“I insist,” Joyce said. She shooed them with her hands. “Now, you boys get out of here.”

Mart couldn’t be mad at Joyce because she obviously thought she was doing him a favor, but Mat dreaded spending a few minutes with Dan, much less an entire afternoon. “Thanks, Joyce,” Mart said, hoping his discomfort didn’t show.

Mart waited for Dan to snag his jacket off the back of the chair and thank Joyce for the coffee before he turned and headed out of the house. Outside Mart patted his leg and Jelly, who’d been playing with Powder Puff (Tanya had named the cat with the title she’d heard incorrectly and it had stuck), came running. Mart figured it would be a good idea to have Jelly along so he could fuss (or pretend to fuss) with him when things got weird, as they inevitably would.

Mart led Dan to the back door of the cottage where he removed his work shoes and left them in the mud slash laundry room with his barn coat and hat. Mart went through to the kitchen and got a glass out of the cupboard. He poured filtered water from a pitcher in the fridge and took a sip before turning to face Dan.

“What are you doing here?”

“Trixie said you needed a fresh pair of eyes,” Dan said.

Mart huffed a humorless laugh. He should’ve known that Trixie was up to something.

“I take it you weren’t expecting me.”

“I was not,” Mart said. “But to be fair, I wasn’t expecting anyone.” He paused. “You didn’t have to come all this way.”

Dan shrugged. “I was in the area. And I’m happy to help a friend.”

“Is that what we are?” Mart said, a little more bitterly than he’d meant to. Jelly must’ve sensed his anxiousness because he came over and leaned into Mart’s leg. Mart gratefully reached down and petted Jelly’s head.

“I hope so,” Dan said.

Mart took a few slow breaths. He carefully set the glass on the counter. “I’m going to take a shower.” He might as well, since Joyce had given him the rest of the day off. Plus it would give him some space from Dan.

“Help yourself to anything in the fridge,” Mart said and left before he gave away anything more.

Mart showered quickly, then stood under the spray because the last thing he wanted to do was go out there and face Dan. The realization that he was still being a coward steeled Mart’s resolve. Mart’s hand faltered on the handle and he received a blast of cold water before he got it turned off.

Mart sucked in air through his teeth. That had certainly been a wake up call. He dried off and ran the towel over his head before hanging it over the shower curtain rod. Mart dressed in a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt, over which he pulled a plaid flannel shirt. He ran his fingers through his hair and called it done.

Mart took a moment to sit on the bed and pet Jelly, who’d accompanied him to the bedroom. “Well, girl, I guess I should get this over with.”

Dan was sitting at the kitchen table, a glass of water between his hands. A glance at the counter revealed that it was Mart’s glass.

“We should probably stick to business.”

Mart didn’t know what he expected Dan to say, but he felt a surge of irrational disappointment anyway. “I guess we should.”

Mart fussed with the coffee maker to have something to do with his hands. “It’s probably nothing. In fact, when I called Trixie I was kind of hoping she’d tell me it was all in my imagination.”

Mart told Dan what he’d seen, which really wasn’t much. Most of what was bothering him was gut feeling, and that wasn’t much to go on.

“So you’ve got a truck coming out of a field it shouldn’t be, an influx of money, and a shifty hired man,” Dan said in summary.

“When you say it out loud like that . . . ,” Mart said. “I told you it was probably nothing.”

“I didn’t say that,” Dan said. “I just wanted to make sure I had it all straight.” Dan closed the notebook in which he’d written down the information as Mart spoke. “Why don’t you show me around.”

“The farm?”

“Sure.”

Mart couldn’t think of a reason to refuse and being outside was probably better than being confined in the small cottage with Dan. Mart put on his ‘good’ work shoes and grabbed a jacket off the hook by the front door. As soon as he was outside Jelly took off to find someone to play with, leaving Mart alone with Dan.

“This used to be the summer kitchen,” Mart said as they walked down the front steps. “It was renovated for extra guest space, then expanded at some point to become an in-law apartment. You’ve already seen the stone farmhouse,” Mart said as they walked past it. “It was build in 1802,” he added.

Mart pointed out the barn and the outbuildings, explained the origin of the odd pet names, told Dan about the vegetable stand and the sap house, but it was as if he was talking to a stranger. Dan asked questions, and Mart’s replies were stilted.

An hour later they’d made their way back to the cottage. Dan paused beside his car and Mart stopped walking.

“Coming here was probably a mistake. I thought . . .”

Dan stopped speaking when Mart let out a bark of laughter.

“You should’ve know that,” Mart said. “Seems everything about me is a mistake.”

Dan stared at Mart with a wide-eyed expression of confusion. Mart turned away and was up the steps before Dan spoke again. “What are you talking about? You’re the one who’s been avoiding me for the past five years.”

Mart reached the porch and turned, pointing an accusatory finger at Dan. “You’re the one who said I was a mistake!”

“What? I didn’t . . .”

Mart had to get away from Dan, but for the first time in the two years he’d lived there Mart had trouble getting the door open.

“Mart.”

Mart jerked his shoulder away from Dan’s hand.

“Calm down,” Dan said, which had the opposite effect on Mart.

Mart whirled around. “Don’t tell me to calm down.” He poked a finger into Dan’s chest. “You don’t get to tell me to calm down.”

Dan closed his hand gently around Mart’s finger. “You can still be mad at me, I just don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Mart snorted and pulled his hand away from Dan’s. He hid it behind his back as if he could deny the tingling if he couldn’t see it. “You kissed me,” Mart said.

It had been a hot August during the summer after Mart’s freshman year at SUNY Cobleskill. Dan had come home to Sleepyside when he had a couple days off to see everyone while the Bobwhites were all gathered in one place again. They’d all, with the addition of Bobby, gone swimming in the Wheeler’s lake. The girls were the first to leave, taking Bobby with them, then Jim and Brian.

Mart and Dan had stayed behind, talking. They’d gone back in the water to cool off. One of them started a splash fight and a wrestling match ensued. There’d been something in the air that night; Mart had the sensed that anything could happen.

They were close enough that Mart could see the water droplets clinging to Dan’s eyelashes in the moonlight. One of them leaned forward, Mart thinks it might have been him, and they were kissing. They managed to get up on the dock before Dan shoved his hand inside Mart’s swim shorts and brought him off as Mart clung to his back.

It wasn’t until Mart came down from his orgasm that he saw the expression on Dan’s face – regret and horror. Dan had uttered those fateful words – _this was a mistake_ – and left Mart on the dock alone to deal with all the feelings rushing through his body.

Dan had returned to New York City the next morning, a day earlier than he’d planned, and a couple of weeks later Mart was back at college. With Dan in NYC and Mart upstate it was surprisingly easy to avoid each other. Or to ignore each other when avoidance wasn’t possible. And Mart had been okay with the status quo.

“Yes,” Dan said. “I kissed you.”

Dan hesitated, and Mart could see that he was remembering what else they’d done at the lake that night.

“And I’m sorry as hell for doing that.”

Mart’s vision went blurry – from anger or tears, Mart wasn’t going to look too closely at the cause. “Fuck you, Dan Mangan. Get the hell off me.”

Mart tried to push Dan away, but Dan had been trained to take down perps. Mart was strong from lifting bales of hay, but he couldn’t compete with that. Mart stopped struggling and glared at Dan, who hadn’t even broken a sweat. The jerk.

“Wait a minute,” Dan said in a strange tone.

Mart glanced at Dan to find him studying Mart in turn. Mart slid his eyes away and ducked his head so Dan couldn’t see whatever it was Mart’s face was giving away.

“Are you mad at me for kissing you, or for apologizing for it?”

Mart clenched his teeth and refused to respond.

“Mart, please.”

Anger flared. Dan didn’t get to sound like that. Mart shoved at Dan’s shoulder even though it barely moved him. “You said it was a mistake! That _I_ was a mistake.”

Mart turned his head away so Dan couldn’t see the tears burning the back of his eyes. God, this was embarrassing. He was going to kill Trixie the next time he saw her for sending Dan.

“No,” Dan said. “I mean, yes, but _no_. It was never you, it was . . .”

Mart snorted. “If you even think of saying ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ right now, I’m going to knee you in the nuts.”

“There he is,” Dan said, his tone fond.

Mart gave Dan a half-hearted shove and still refused to look at him.

“I’d been out since high school,” Dan said. “And it was hard, even though I didn’t want to hide who I was anymore. You were barely out to yourself. I didn’t want to pressure you. Or take advantage.”

Mart touched the side of his head as if it would help him think. What Dan said made a certain amount of sense and made him see the situation in a different light. A few drunken fumbling encounters at college had helped him understand his complicated feelings, but he hadn’t been out yet. Mart hadn’t thought too deeply on it because he was afraid to admit to himself what it meant. He certainly hadn’t told anyone else, not even Trixie. When he’d seen Dan that summer, the first time since Thanksgiving (Dan, being a rookie still, had to work over Christmas), he must’ve given himself away somehow.

“I . . .”

When Mart didn’t continue, Dan said, “Did you really think I didn’t want to kiss you again? It felt like anyone who looked at me could tell how much I did.”

“I tried not to look at you,” Mart admitted.

“I know. I thought you hated me for what I’d done.”

“I didn’t hate you,” Mart said. “I hated myself for a while, though.”

“I’m sorry,” Dan said. “Mart, I’m so sorry. If I’d had any idea . . .”

Mart tried to wave it away.

“I never meant to hurt you. If I’d know I would’ve set you straight. So to speak.”

Mart’s huff of laughter was a little damp.

“And then you went and grew your hair out.”

Mart shivered as Dan ran his fingers through the short blond curls. Mart had stopped shaving his hair during college, when he was no longer living at home and being compared to Trixie, and when being called her twin when he was 11 months older than her lost its sting. He didn’t let it grow too long because the curls got unruly, but it was long enough for someone to get their fingers in and grab. Mart bit back a moan when Dan did just that.

“I was in my own personal hell,” Dan said.

“Dan.”

“I really want to kiss you right now, Mart Belden,” Dan said. “May I?”

Mart didn’t answer with words. He took Dan’s face in his hands and kissed him. Dan made a sound that went straight through Mart and sparked a fire in his belly. The hard door was at his back and Dan’s hardness pressed into his belly when they finally broke apart to take deep panting breaths. Dan shifted, causing Mart to moan when their erections rubbed together.

“You can come inside so we can finish this,” Mart said. “As long as you promise not to say it’s a mistake after.”

Maybe it was too soon to joke about it, but Mart was only half-joking, so . . .

“The mistake was leaving,” Dan said. “You don’t know how many times I kicked myself for it, even though I thought I was doing the right thing at the time.”

“Did you ever think about it?” Mart said. “What might’ve happened if you stayed?”

“All the time,” Dan said.

“Me, too,” Mart said, and dragged Dan into the cottage.

~*~*~*~

Mart stood staring into the fridge. His plans for the evening had included his ‘should’ve done’ from last Saturday – staying in with pizza and Mario Kart – so there wasn’t any meat thawed. Dan stepped up to Mart. He wrapped his arms around Mart and pressed a kiss to the side of Mart’s neck before resting his chin on Mart’s shoulder and staring into the fridge with him.

“What are you doing?”

Mart ignored the flush crawling up his chest – a combination of arousal and the knowledge that this was a thing they could do now – and explained the situation to Dan.

“Let’s do that, then,” Dan said. “Been a while since I’ve kicked your ass at Mario Kart.”

Mart swung the refrigerator door closed and turned in Dan’s arms. “You mean, like, never?”

“I let you win all those times,” Dan said, biting back a grin.

“The hell you did! Guess you’ll just have to put your money where your mouth is.”

“Rather put my mouth where your mouth is,” Dan said.

“Wow, that was rather sappy,” Mart said, but he touched his lips to Dan’s.

One thing led to another and they had to clean up again before Mart called in the pizza order. At Dan’s request Mart drove past the Gunderson farm so Dan could take a look at it before they backtracked for their pizza. There wasn’t much to see – no dump truck was lumbering out of the field, all the expensive equipment was hidden inside the barn and shed, and Ted Wilkins was nowhere in sight – but Dan still studied the place with an experienced eye.

A short ways down the road Mart turned the pick-up around and headed back to Sawyerville. A once thriving town with several hotels and a dozen businesses sustained by being a stop on the Albany & Susquehanna Railroad, as well as a famous horse racing track, Sawyerville had been reduced to a gas station, a church, a general store/restaurant, a bar and a dozen rundown houses before you reached the farmland outside of town.

Mart pulled into the small parking area directly in front of the Sawyerville General Store. In a couple hours the lot would be full and people would have to park on the street or brave using the church parking lot, but for now it was empty.

Mart led Dan up the front steps and into the restaurant area, which took up the right half of the store. To the left of the seating area was a small grocery area in the front and a small post office in the back. When the store was first opened back in 1836 it was simply a general store, but as the times (and the generation of owners) changed, they’d expanded to bring in customers – first the post office, then a deli counter and a dry cleaning drop-off pick-up, and finally a full-blown restaurant.

Margaret “Maggie” Johnstone was pouring coffee into a cup placed in front of Alton Roberts, recently retired from the town and living within walking distance of the store in the same house he’d grown up in. She glanced over at Mart and gave them a wave without spilling a drop.

“Pizza’ll be out in a couple minutes,” Maggie said.

“Okay, thanks,” Mart said.

While they waited Dan walked around the space. Mart watched him closely, wondering whether Dan would think the store, this _place_ Mart had made his home, was too hokey. Dan took a deep breath and let it out.

“What?” Mart said, his stomach flipping in anticipation of an answer he wouldn’t like.

Dan glanced at Mart and smiled. “This place reminds me of home.”

“Brooklyn?”

Dan gave Mart a long look. “Sleepyside.”

“Oh.” Mart’s entire body went warm with pleasure at the comment. And maybe a little bit because of the way Dan was looking at him.

Maggie’s voice calling to tell them that the pizza was ready interrupted what could’ve turned out to be an awkward moment in the middle of the Sawyerville General Store. Mart ducked his head and gave Dan a look from beneath his lashes before he went over to the register to pay. The smile Dan flashed made it difficult for Mart to pull his wallet out of his back pocket and he fumbled with the money.

“So, who’s your friend?” Maggie said before Mart could grab the pizza and run.

The General Store was the hub of gossip in what was left of Sawyerville, so Mart should’ve expected it. Still, he stumbled over the words when he made the introduction.

“This is Dan Mangan, a friend of mine from back home,” Mart said. “Dan, this is Maggie Johnstone, owner of this fine establishment.”

“Pshaw!” Maggie waved a hand at Mart, but she gave the interior of the store a proud look.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Dan said.

“Well, aren’t you a smooth one,” Maggie said.

Dan flushed and Maggie cackled.

“Go on, now. Get out of here before your pizza gets cold.”

Mart didn’t need any further urging; he grabbed the pizza off the counter and headed for the door, calling his goodbyes to Maggie and Alton.

They ate the pizza (sharing a few bites with Jelly, who appeared as soon as Mart pulled in the driveway as if he could smell the pizza), played Mario Kart and went to bed early. Jelly was not pleased to be shut out of the bedroom while Mart and Dan engaged in round three, but he didn’t hesitate to join them on the bed the moment Mart opened the door to admit him.

~*~*~*~

On Sunday Mart made a breakfast of cheese omelets, bacon and toast. After clean-up – which should’ve taken less time with Dan’s help, but actually took longer because they kept stopping to kiss – Mart suggested they hit the hiking trail at Vroman’s Nose. Dan laughed at the name, even harder when Mart explained its origin, and agreed.

Mart made sure they both wore sturdy shoes and layers. It was cool early in the morning, but the day would warm up and the hike itself would warm them further. Mart threw some re-usable water bottles in a cooler along with some snacks in case they got hungry. (The hike itself wasn’t particularly long, but they were both growing boys still.)

Mart double-checked that he had his phone and ushered everyone outside. He gave Jelly a pat and told him to go find Billy. Dan shook his head at the name, chuckling as they got into Mart’s pick-up for the half-hour drive. Instead of getting onto I-88, Mart took Mineral Springs Road when Dan requested to see where the NYS Trooper’s barracks was located.

By the time Mart turned into the parking lot he felt like he knew Dan better because they’d talked about all the things he’d missed while avoiding Dan – how much he enjoyed his job, the people he’d helped, how scared he’d been the first time he’d had to tase someone, and his volunteer gig with Big Brothers Big Sisters. Mart’s life wasn’t nearly as exciting, but he happily told Dan what he’d been up to for the past five years, between college and working for the Masons.

They each took a bottle of water for the hike and Mart stuffed a bag of trail mix into the pocket of the light jacket he figured would end up tied around his waist before they reached the halfway point. Dan took Mart’s hand as they started up the trail and Mart was glad they seemed to be the only ones there that early on an October morning. Mart curled his fingers around Dan’s and ignored the heat climbing up his neck. It was hard to believe that he could do this now, something he’d only dreamt of previously.

They stepped carefully over roots and stones and spots that appeared wet and slippery. They stopped often to enjoy the rock formations and view of the valley below. Mart pointed out some of the glacial striations, ripple marks and marine fossils as they walked, smiling at Dan’s excitement. Despite the number of times Mart had walked this trail he was always struck by the beauty of it. Today that beauty was enhanced by the vibrant colors of autumn and having Dan by his side.

Dan pulled out his phone and took photos. Mart had a feeling he was in at least half of them. The view from the flat rock called the Dance Floor took their breath away. Dan took a photo of Mart standing with his back to Dan as he looked out over the Schoharie Valley, and then a selfie of the two of them with the view as their backdrop. They lowered themselves to the rock outcrop and sipped their water as they took in the spectacular view. Mart pulled the bag of trail mix from his pocket and offered it to Dan. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Mart started to think about the things they could do up there if they were assured of privacy.

“Okay.” Mart stood and swiped his hand over his butt to wipe away stone and dir. “We should probably get going.”

Dave gave Mart a long look, but stood without a word. Mart busied himself removing the jacket and tying it around his waist. If the hike alone hadn’t been enough to overheat him, the thoughts he’d been having were.

When they reached the parking lot where they’d left the pick-up, Dan asked if Mart would mind driving them through Middleburgh and Schoharie.

“Sure,” Mart said. They had plenty of time before he had to be back for the evening milking. “Any particular reason?”

“I just want to get a feel for the place, and since we’re so close . . .”

“Yeah, not a problem.”

The stopped in Middleburgh first because it was closest, then headed down Route 30 to Schoharie. Mart parked the pick-up and they walked a short way down the main streets so Dan could check out the businesses and architecture. On the way back Mart once again eschewed the highway and took Route 7 so he could take a detour to show Dan Howe Caverns and point out where the new jail was going up (back in 2011 Irene had caused a flood that damaged the old jail beyond repair), then headed into Cobleskill.

By then they both admitted to ‘being able to eat something’, so Mart pulled into the country club for an early lunch at the Red Barn. It had warmed up enough that they could sit on the patio that looked over the course. They took their time over the meal and several times Mart found himself wanting to reach out and take Dan’s hand. Dan must’ve noticed one of Mart’s aborted movements because he smiled at Mart and stretched out his long legs under the table until his feet were tangled with Mart’s. Mart’s cheeks heated, but he didn’t pull away.

On the drive back to Maple Ridge Farm, Dan suggested that they stop at the Gunderson place. “Even if Mr. Gunderson hasn’t returned yet, I can at least get a look at Ted Wilkins.”

Mart agreed that sounded like a good idea. In part because he appreciated that Dan was taking his concerns seriously, but also because he knew that Dan was a good judge of character.

Mr. Gunderson had not yet returned from Colorado, and Ted did not seem pleased to see them. Dan was good at ignoring that. He introduced himself to Ted as Mart’s friend from back home and said Mart was showing him around and would Ted mind letting Dan see inside the barn because he’d seen the Mason’s pipeline set-up but he’d never seen a milking parlor before. Mart had to bite his lip to keep from grinning at the act Dan was putting on.

Mart managed to wait until they were down the road a piece before he let the grin out. Dan saw it and laughed, and Mart joined in.

Dan finally sobered. “Ted really doesn’t like visitors to the farm.”

“No,” Mart agreed.

~*~*~*~

Jelly greeted Mart when they got home as if they’d been gone for days instead of hours. He followed them inside and got a treat for keeping an eye on the place. Jelly gobbled down the treat, then got a drink of water when it became clear that Mart wasn’t going to give him another one.

Mart stared awkwardly at the waistband of Dan’s jeans. The only thing they’d done inside the cottage with their clothes on was play a video game and eat pizza. Mart asked Dan if he wanted to do that.

“How about something more passive, like a move we don’t really care about,” Dan countered. At Mart’s look, Dan said, “I’d like to cuddle on the couch. If that’s something you’d also like to do.”

Mart smiled. “I suppose that would be alright.”

Mart took Dan’s hand and led him the short distance from the kitchen to the living room. Jelly was already sprawled out on the floor in front of the heating vent. Dan sat against the arm of the couch and Mart sat beside him, leaning against his side when Dan raised his arm.

Mart turned on the television and gave the remote to Dan so he could find something suitably uninteresting for them to watch. While Dan checked the guide, Mart’s mind began to worry over the fact that they had less than five hours, closer to four now, before Mart had to get to the barn. Dan would probably need to head back to the NYC then.

“What’s wrong?” Dan said softly, his head turned so that Mart could feel the tickle of Dan’s breath in his hair.

Mart shook his head, then remembered that Dan had been brave enough to show up even though he’d been uncertain of his welcome. “It’s just, I’m gonna miss you. When you leave.”

Mart huffed a laugh at the irony. “I’ve spent five years trying real hard not to think of you at all and now I’m not going to be able to stop.” Mart turned his face into Dan’s shoulder to hide his emotions.

Dan pressed a kiss to the top of Mart’s head. “I can come back,” he said. “If you want.”

“You’d want to do that?”

“Yeah, idjit, I’d want to do that.”

Mart sniffled. “Yeah, okay, I guess that would be alright.” And maybe sometime he could go visit Dan.

Dan curled his arm around Mart’s neck and gave him a noogie. Mart laughed, but didn’t struggle very hard to get away. Even so, Mart was breathing hard when they stopped wrestling to put the cushions back on the couch.

“Let me know when you’re coming,” Mart said as they settled back on the couch. “I’ll get the entire weekend off.”

“Sounds good. Maybe we can go to the Baseball Hall of Fame some time.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

They were both silent for a few minutes. Mart stared at the television screen, but he had no idea what movie was playing. He couldn’t stop thinking about Dan wanting to come see him again. It was exciting and terrifying. Mart was finally getting what he wanted, but they’d have to do the long-distance thing because Mart had made sure he hadn’t settled where he had to see Dan all the time. That would suck.

“You’re thinking again,” Dan said.

“The long-distance thing is gonna be hard.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to try?”

“No!” Mart said. “I definitely want to try.”

Dan shifted towards Mart so he could kiss him. “Good. So do I.”

Dan placed his hand on Mart’s hip and gave a little tug. Mart went with him when Dan rolled back into his original position and he ended up straddling Dan’s lap. Dan’s hands cradled Mart’s face and he kissed Mart breathless. Dan pushed his hands into Mart’s hair and tugged. Mart moaned as his head tipped back and Dan nuzzled into his throat.

“Have I told you how much I like your longer hair?”

“You might’ve mentioned it . . .” Mart broke off when Dan’s teeth grazed his skin. “. . . once or twice,” he finished.

“Maybe I should show you,” Dan said, his lips brushing the now-very sensitive skin of Mart’s throat.

“I am a visual learner,” Mart agreed.

Dan sputtered a laugh before his hands got busy and there were no more words for a while.

~*~*~*~

They’d fallen asleep after Dan cleaned them up and Mart was loathe to move even as the clock ticked closer to the time when Mart had to get to the barn.

“How about a walk before I leave?” Dan said, as if he’d read Mart’s mind. “I’m gonna be in the car for a while.”

Mart agreed and reluctantly moved away from Dan’s warmth. He got dressed in an old pair of jeans he used for barn work and tried not to watch Dan pull on his own clothes and repack his duffel.

Jelly joined them for their walk, stopping occasionally to give something a more thorough sniff or running ahead. When they were out of sight of the house Dan reached for Mart’s hand. Mart tangled their fingers together.

“The Masons know I’m into guys,” Mart said. He didn’t advertise his sexual preference to strangers, but Mart had wanted to know what kind of people he was working for before he accepted the full-time position. “Turns out Joyce’s sister is gay.”

“Good,” Dan said. “I’m glad you don’t have to hide that part of yourself here.”

Mart squeezed Dan’s hand and gave him a look from under his lashes. “Me, too.”

They returned to the cottage and stopped beside Dan’s car. Mart didn’t know how he could feel so happy and so sad at the same time.

Dan leaned one hip against the car and pulled Mart closer until their faces were near enough to kiss. “I wasn’t going to tell you this yet because I didn’t want to get either of our hopes up, but I can practically see the gears turning in your head as you try to solve the problem of the distance between us.”

“I wasn’t,” Mart said, but it was a half-hearted lie. He might’ve been going through the farms near Sleepyside, wondering if any of them were hiring.

Dan snorted. “Remember when I told you that I was in the area?”

“Yeah. I thought you were just saying that.”

“No. I was in Albany for an interview.”

“An interview for what?” Mart said.

“I’ve applied for a job with the New York State Police,” Dan said. “They have some openings upstate.”

“The New York State Police?”

“I won’t know for a week or two whether I’ve got the job.”

Mart’s mouth opened and closed. “Is that why you wanted to see where the Trooper Barracks was located?”

Dan shrugged. “Are you . . . ?”

“What does this mean?”

“It means I might be looking for a new place to live.”

“Dan.” Mart suddenly realized he was squeezing Dan’s hand really hard and opened his own hand. “Being part of the New York Police Department was all you ever wanted.”

“Helping people was what I wanted, and when I first started dreaming of it New York City was still home. At least, that’s where my memories of home were. But New York City’s not home anymore. Sleepyside and Uncle Regen and Mr. Maypenny and all of you guys is home.”

Mart blinked quickly to fight back tears and punched Dan in the arm. “You asshole. You’re gonna make me cry.”

“Sorry,” Dan said, smiling.

Mart let Dan pull him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around Dan’s back and held on tight.

“You’ve got to get to work,” Dan said.

“I know.” Mart held Dan for a beat longer before releasing him and stepping back. “You should get out of here before I change my mind.”

“Don’t change your mind too much.”

Mart lunged at Dan, pushing him against the car. He held Dan’s face and gave him a hard, desperate kiss before stepping back as if he’d been burned. “Call me when you get home.”

Dan looked a little dazed. He touched his fingers to his lips, then snapped out of it. “I’ll call you,” Dan promised as he slid into the driver’s seat.

“Drive safe,” Mart said when Dan rolled down the window.

“I will.” Dan touched the tips of his fingers to his lips and blew the kiss to Mart.

Mart’s neck heated. He didn’t know why that affected him more than the actual kiss they’d just shared had.

Dan winked before backing up and turning the car to face out the driveway. Mart started after the car until he lost sight of it, then headed for the barn. Joyce already had a pile of silage in front of each stall and was waiting for Mart to let the cows in.

“So,” Joyce said. “Dan Mangan.”

Mart tried to ignore the heat crawling up his neck, which reminded him that he should’ve checked to see if Dan had left a mark earlier. He fought down the urge to reach up and press the tips of his fingers against the spot on the side of his throat to see how tender it was.

Mart had to swallow before he could speak. “What about him?”

Joyce studied Mart’s face. “You look happy.”

Mart’s skin felt even hotter. Joyce walked with Mart to open the fence keeping the cows in the pasture. “Come on, girls,” Mart called. “It’s dinnertime.”

Mart pushed the gate open and the first few eager cows stepped through. Over their backs Mart spoke to Joyce. “Dan might come up to visit again.”

Anything Joyce might’ve said in response was lost in making sure there weren’t any stragglers and that each cow was in the correct stall. They each took a side of the barn and clipped the chain to each cow’s collar, then Joyce went through with the grain cart while Mart turned the pipeline on and carried out the milkers. Mart made a second trip for the udder wash and his strap-on stool.

Her chores done, Joyce stopped by to let Mart know she was leaving. The kids had been given orders to finish any homework they hadn’t done on Friday while Joyce was helping to get the cows in. When Joyce returned to the house they’d be drafted to help peel potatoes or whatever Joyce needed them to do, then sat at the kitchen table to continue with their homework while she got supper ready.

Joyce turned away, then paused and glanced at Mart over her shoulder. “Dan’s welcome here anytime. Especially if he keeps making you look like that.”

Mart cursed his fair skin that showed a flush despite the deep tan he’d gotten doing hay over the summer. “Thank you,” he said simply. Mart hadn’t expected Joyce or Bob to threaten to fire him or toss him out of the cottage, but there was a difference between Mart’s queerness being theoretical and meeting the man that Mart had been fantasizing about for years.

“You’re welcome,” Joyce said, leaving Mart alone to finish the milking.

~*~*~*~

Mart’s weird feeling about what was going on at the Gunderson farm took a backseat to work the next few days. Mart helped Bob get the last of the corn out of the field and into the silo and plowing the fields in preparation for spring planting. He also helped Joyce get the last of the squash out of the garden and rake the lawn so the leaves could be mulched and added to the compost pile.

Dan was working days, so they talked each evening, even if it was only for a few minutes. One night they Skyped – the sight of Dan only made Mart miss him more – and on another they turned on the same movie and watched it together for an hour before Mart had to call it a night despite really not wanting to.

Mart didn’t ask about Dan’s interview even though he was dying to know; he knew that Dan would tell him as soon as he heard anything. Mart couldn’t stop thinking about it, though. If Dan was stationed at the Trooper Barracks in Schoharie County they’d get to see each other a lot more often. Mart didn’t know if their days off would line up, but he made a list of the things they could do, which included hiking at Minekill and maybe another trip to Vroman’s Nose, riding one of the many local bike paths, going to the local movie theater, watching basketball games at the local college or high school, taking a train ride to view the fall foliage . . .

Mart also wondered where Dan would live. Did he think it was too soon to move in with Mart? Did Mart think it was too soon? Mart looked around the small cottage. It was the perfect size for him, but would it be big enough for two? Mart shook his head; he knew he was getting way ahead of himself, but he couldn’t help it.

~*~

Trixie called Mart on Thursday. He’d forgotten his initial irritation with her when Dan first showed up after the way the weekend turned out, but he wasn’t above getting a little revenge on her. Mart did the one thing destined to drive Trixie crazy: he withheld information from her.

“Hey, Mart!” Trixie said when Mart answered her call. “How was your weekend?”

“It was alright,” Mart said. “How about you, did you close whatever case you were working on that kept you from visiting?”

Trixie and Honey still had dreams of opening their own investigation agency after graduating from college. Trixie, who’d majored in Criminal Justice & Forensics with a minor in Psychology, was currently working for a P.I. firm in Manhattan as low man on the totem pole to get the requisite three years experience before she could apply for her own license and strike out on her own. Honey had gotten a double major in Psychology and Business and was currently attending law school at NYU. They shared the Wheeler apartment in Central Park West until they started their own business and were able to afford their own place. The two of them would make a formidable team, Mart knew.

“We did,” Trixie said. “It actually took until yesterday, which is why I haven’t had a chance to call you until now. So? Spill!”

“There’s not much to tell, Trix,” Mart lied. “Dan dropped by, as I’m sure you’re aware. I told him the same thing I told you and he said there really wasn’t much to go on. It was probably nothing, an over-active imagination.”

“Mart Belden!” Trixie exclaimed. “You can’t give up!”

“I’m not giving up,” Mart said, relenting. “I was just screwing with you.”

“Ohh! I’ll get you back for that, brother mine.”

“Uh huh,” Mart said. “Do you want to hear what really happened, even though it’s not much?”

“Of course!”

“We dropped by the farm to see if Mr. Gunderson was back. He wasn’t, but Dan got to meet the hired man, Ted. Dan agreed that there’s something fishy about Ted, but that’s not much to go on. He could’ve just been screwing around while Mr. Gunderson was gone, rather than doing the work he was supposed to, and didn’t want us to notice and tattle on him.”

“Do you really believe that?” Trixie said.

Mart thought for a moment, sighed. “No.”

“Just keep your eyes, and your mind, open. You never know what you’ll see.”

“I guess.”

“Now, tell me all about your weekend with Dan.”

Mart’s mouth went dry. “What?”

“You guys used to be pretty close, but things are weird now when you’re in the came vicinity, much less the same room.”

“And you thought you’d fix things by sending Dan here without telling me?” Mart said, feeling a surge of the same irritation he’d felt when he first realized what Trixie had done. He took a breath and let it go. “I guess we just drifted apart,” he said, the lie tasting like sawdust on his tongue. “After high school we didn’t see each other very often.”

“Were things super weird?” Trixie said, sounding almost apologetic.

“Yeah,” Mart said. “At first they were. But they got better, almost back to normal.” If normal had included them sticking their tongues in each other’s mouths. “I took him to Vroman’s Nose.”

“I bet he loved that!” Trixie said, having hiked the trail with Mart before.

Mart went warm at the memory of Dan kissing him on the Dance Floor. “Yeah, he did.”

~*~*~*~

Mart went to town on Friday afternoon to get his hair trimmed and go grocery shopping. He’d asked Joyce and Bob if they needed anything before he left. They didn’t, so Mart had no other responsibilities but to be back for the evening milking.

The trim didn’t take any time at all, and afterwards Mart stopped at the neighboring bakery for a cup of coffee to steel himself for the grocery store. He splurged on a warmed cranberry muffin and ate it slowly while he checked his phone. Dan had taken to texting him during the day even though they spoke every night. The texts ranged from heartfelt _I miss you_ s to maddening _thought of you last night_ s to silly memes. Mart had discovered that he enjoyed receiving them.

Mart sent a photo of his muffin (already missing a couple pieces) and coffee cup with the message _wish you were here_. Mart stared at the text after he’d sent it and wondered if he should have. Well, it was too late now. Mart finished the coffee and muffin and, with a wave to the woman behind the counter, headed to the grocery store.

Mart ran into Mr. Gunderson in the canned vegetable aisle. “Mr. Gunderson, hi,” Mart said, recovering from his surprise at coming upon the other man so unexpectedly. “How are you?”

“Mart Belden,” Mr. Gunderson said. “I’m good. How are you, son?”

“Good.” Mart placed a couple cans of kidney beans in the cart. “I’m gonna make Moms’ chili,” he told Mr. Gunderson.

“Love chili,” Mr. Gunderson said. “I don’t make it for just myself.”

Mrs. Gunderson had passed from cancer a couple years after the summer Mart had worked for them. Her medical bills were part of the reason the farm had been floundering before the mysterious investor had saved it.

“I’ll bring you some this weekend,” Mart promised. “You like cornbread?”

“Is there anybody who doesn’t like cornbread?” Mr. Gunderson replied.

Mart smiled. “Shouldn’t be. How’s your daughter?” At Mr. Gunderson’s look, Mart said, “I stopped by and Ted told me you were visiting her.”

“You stopped by?” Mr. Gunderson said.

“Yeah. Ted said he’d tell you, but it must’ve slipped his mind.” Mart remained outwardly calm, but inside red lights were flashing. Ted had tried to keep Mart away from Mr. Gunderson by not passing on the message.

Mr. Gunderson told Mart about his visit to Denver, where his daughter had settled after grad school and Mart listened politely, all the while wondering why Ted had kept Mart’s visit from Mr. Gunderson.

Mart left Mr. Gunderson with a promise to bring him some of the chili and finished his shopping. In the pick-up Mart barely took notice of the sad face emoji Dan had sent in reply to his previous text before typing out a new one.

_update on hunch when we talk_

~*~

That night Mart browned the ground beef with diced peppers and onions while he cooked a burger on his George Foreman Grill. He liked to put his chili together the night before he wanted to eat it so the flavors had a chance to meld. Mart added seasoning to the pot and let it simmer while he ate, sharing some of the burger with Jelly.

Mart added the beans and tomato sauce to the pot and let it continue to simmer while he cleaned up from his supper. He turned off the stove and took the pot off the burner so it could cool a little bit before he put it in the fridge. He and Jelly went to the living room to relax on the couch. Mart turned on the National Geographic channel and called Dan.

~*~

Dan had agreed with Mart that Ted not telling Mr. Gunderson about Mart’s visit was suspicious, but it was just another piece of circumstantial evidence.

Mart ate the chili as a late lunch because he and Dan were going to play a video game that evening. Mart would need a supper and snacks that he could eat one-handed. He put the leftovers into plastic containers and placed all but two in the freezer for a later date. One was for his meal tomorrow and the other he’d deliver to Mr. Gunderson in the morning.

~*~

Mart had been up late playing Overwatch with Dan, so he slept in and took time to make a substantial breakfast of oatmeal with raisins and real Maple Ridge Farms maple syrup and an English muffin slathered with butter and Joyce’s strawberry rhubarb jelly. It was just after 9am when Mart headed out to deliver the chili and cornbread to Mr. Gunderson.

Mart tried the house first, thinking that Mr. Gunderson might be having breakfast himself at that time after finishing morning chores. Mart had barely knocked on the door when Ted came around the corner of the house, huffing as if he’d run to get there. Before Ted could tell Mart that Mr. Gunderson wasn’t around or didn’t want to be disturbed, Mr. Gunderson opened the door.

“Mart, hi!” Mr. Gunderson said.

Mart turned away from Ted’s glower and smiled at Mr. Gunderson. “Good morning, Mr. Gunderson.” Mart held up the bag. “I brought you some of that chili.”

“Thank you, Mart. You really didn’t have to. Come on it.” Mr. Gunderson stepped back.

Mart glanced at Ted, who looked like he wanted to throw Mart into his truck, and followed Mr. Gunderson into the house. The kitchen Mr. Gunderson led Mart to was tidy enough – the breakfast dishes were already washed and sitting in the dish drainer – but there was dust on the top of the refrigerator and the knick knacks sitting on top of the cupboards.

Mart recalled Mrs. Gunderson up on a step-ladder, dusting them every month. Mart wondered if they’d been dusted since she died a year ago, just six months after the doctors had assured her that the cancer had gone into remission.

Mart dragged himself out of that train of thought and held out the bag. “There’s cornbread in there, too.”

“Guess I know what I’m having for supper,” Mr. Gunderson said, taking the bag from Mart and peering inside. “Thanks for this, Mart.”

Mr. Gunderson set the wrapped cornbread on the counter and the container of chili in the refrigerator. He folded the bag and pushed it into a bag holder in the design of a cow.

“Cup of coffee?” Mr. Gunderson offered.

“If it’s already made and I’m not holding you up,” Mart said. He was in no hurry, and if he wanted to question Mr. Gunderson it would only be polite to do so over coffee.

~*~

Mart didn’t see Ted when he left, but he was so flustered by what he’d learned that he turned towards home instead of heading to town like he’d planned. He had too much to think about.

Mr. Gunderson had talked freely about the improvements he’d been able to made to the farm, but he’d never mentioned the name of the investor. The mysterious person had given Mr. Gunderson the money with his anonymity as a prerequisite. Given, not loaned. It was more like a long-term rental payment, as Mr. Gunderson explained it. The only thing this person wanted was to use a piece of the land at the back of the farm that was worthless to Mr. Gunderson as either field or pasture for “four-wheelers or snowmobiles, something like that.”

Mart told Mr. Gunderson that he’d seen a truck pulling out of the turn off that led back there late one night.

“Probably bringing in them four-wheelers or something,” Mr. Gunderson said.

“Probably,” Mart agreed, though he was certain that truck hadn’t been hauling four-wheelers.

~*~

Dan agreed that there was definitely something hinky about Ted’s reaction, the ‘investor’s requirement of anonymity, and the supposed use of the land. They already knew that Ted had gotten into trouble as a kid from Bob, but Dan agreed to look into Ted to see what kind of trouble he might’ve gotten into since then. (Unfortunately, Dan was unable to find anything after a stint in Fishkill Correctional Facility when Ted was 21 for a drug-related offense, so that got them nowhere.)

“You still wanna play?” Dan said.

Mart didn’t think he’d be able to concentrate so he suggested they find a movie to watch instead. His mind kept wandering away from the movie and he missed most of the plot and Dan’s comments about it.

“. . . fucked me wearing the rabbit suit . . .”

“What?” Mart said, tuning back in.

“There he is,” Dan said. “Movie not holding your interest?”

“No, sorry. I can’t stop thinking about what might be going on at the Gunderson farm.”

“Maybe it really is a private four-wheeler club like Mr. Gunderson said.”

Mart snorted.

“Is there anything I can do to take your mind off it?”

Mart sighed. “I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure?” Dan said, his voice wrapping around Mart’s balls like silk.

“Um,” Mart said.

~*~*~*~

Dan had told Mart that he’d like to come up the following weekend. Dan’s two weeks working days was going to converge with his switch to nights that weekend, so he could drive up Friday after work and didn’t have to leave until Monday morning. Mart couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d gotten comfortable talking to Dan each evening, but his stomach did a little swoop each time he thought about seeing Dan again.

Dan called before he left the city and every hour until the call that said, “I’m here.”

Each call had filled Mart with more anticipation until this moment when every molecule vibrated with nerves. Jelly picked up on Mart’s tension and followed when Mart hurried to open the front door. They both stood on the porch and watched the headlights in the distance as Dan drove up the long driveway and past the stone farmhouse before pulling to a stop beside Mart’s pick-up.

Dan got out of the car and gave Mart a blinding smile. “Hi.”

Mart unfroze and hurled himself down the steps. Dan closed the door and caught Mart in his arms. Mart buried his face in Dan’s neck and held on so tight he thought he might be cutting off Dan’s breathing. Mart’s eyes burned and he squeezed them closed.

Dan seemed content to let Mart cling to him as long as Mart needed to. One hand rubbed Mart’s back and Dan’s other arm held Mart as if he never wanted to let go, though without affecting Mart’s ability to breathe. Dan stiffened when Mart let out a ragged breath. “What’s wrong?”

Mart shook his head without lifting it. “Nothing. I think . . . I just missed you.”

Mart could hear the smile in Dan’s voice when he replied. “I missed you, too. Talking every day is nice, but it isn’t the same.”

“No, it really isn’t,” Mart agreed. “But it’s not just the past two weeks.” He raised his head so he could look into Dan’s face. He was glad of the dark so Dan couldn’t see his red eyes. “The past five years . . .”

“Oh. Yeah. I’ve missed you, too,” Dan repeated.

Mart rubbed his face. “This is probably not the welcome you were expecting.”

“Maybe not,” Dan said with an eyebrow waggle that made the image of Mart waiting naked for Dan pop into Mart’s head. “But I liked it nonetheless.”

“Nonetheless,” Mart repeated in a murmur. “Nonetheless,” he said louder. “I think we can do better.”

“Can we?” Dan said.

Mart kissed Dan, and Dan immediately responded, as if he’d been thinking about it just as much as Mart had. “I think so,” Mart said as he tugged Dan towards the cottage.

(They had done better, despite Jelly’s disgruntled whine at being locked out of the bedroom and the fact that Mart had to run outside wearing only a pair of sweatpants and a pair of untied shoes he’d shoved his feet into, to get Dan’s duffel out of the car.)

~*~

The next morning Mart sewed a loose button onto the shirt he wanted to wear that day while Dan made breakfast of blueberry pancakes (Mart’s favorite) and sausage links. (Mart had gone grocery shopping to make sure he had food on hand for Dan’s visit.) While the sausage cooked Dan leaned against the counter and watched Mart work.

“If farming doesn’t work out for you,” Dan said with a slow early morning drawl, “you could go into alterations.”

“Number one,” Mart said, “I’m not doing an alteration, I’m sewing on a button.” Moms had taught them all, including Dan, how to sew on a button (among a few other simple fixes) before they went off to college. It was a skill that came in handy because working on a farm wasn’t kind to his clothes. Mart had one shirt that had four different style buttons because he kept losing them before he realized they were loose in time to save them. Good thing he kept a jar of buttons just for this purpose.

“And if you don’t remember how to do it, Moms is gonna give you a very disappointed look.” Mart bit off the thread. “And number two, I made Moms an awesome blouse in Home Ec, so no judging.”

“That was a pretty awesome blouse,” Dan agreed.

Because of that – and the forthcoming blueberry pancakes – Mart stood and gave Dan a kiss before slipping his arms into the flannel shirt and buttoning it over the t-shirt he already wore. It was October, so layering was a must. The mornings started off with a crisp bite in the air, but the day might get warm if the sun shone. Or it might not.

After breakfast Mart and Dan went out to see if Joyce needed help loading the truck. The weekend before Halloween Sawyerville hosted a combination craft fair and Halloween party, cunningly called the Sawyerville Craft Fair & Halloween Festival. There were costume contests and dunking for apples for the kids, cider and donuts, horse-drawn wagon rides, and tables set up by various vendors.

Joyce set up a Maple Ridge Farm table that offered everything from syrup and eggs and winter squash to the afghans and mittens she knitted mostly during the slower winter days and evenings in front of the fire. She’d even tried to teach Mart, who’d been looking for something to keep himself busy when there wasn’t as much field work to do.

Because of Dan’s crack that morning, Mart mentioned it in front of Joyce, whose first response was to offer to teach Dan. Mart felt laughter bubbling up so he couldn’t stick around long enough to hear Dan’s reply. When Mart returned with a box of bottled syrup Joyce was smiling and Dan looked way too pleased with himself.

“Mart!” Joyce said. “Dan says he wants to learn how to knit! Maybe you could join us for a refresher.”

Dan gave Mart a challenging look. “I want to make a scarf for Mart for Christmas.”

“Making a scarf by Christmas might be a bit of a challenge, but we’ll see,” Joyce said diplomatically. She patted Dan’s arm before heading over to the house to get the last of the plastic bins that held ‘mittens, hats, headbands & scarves’ according to the masking tape label.

Mart stared at Dan, who looked pretty pleased with himself and knew that he’d wear the damned scarf no matter how many mistakes it held or what hideous color of yarn Dan chose. Mart was completely and utterly fucked. The only thing he could do was accept it.

Mart gave Dan a quick kiss that surprised both of them more than it did Joyce, who had a small smile on her face, though she was studiously ignoring them.

“I’d be honored to wear your scarf,” Mart said, his voice low so only Dan could hear. He left Dan standing there with a gobsmacked look on his face, Mart’s own heart pounding wildly in his chest.

~*~

Mart and Dan helped Joyce set up her stall, then wandered past the other tables to see what else was on offer. Mrs. Christman, locally known as The Cat Lady because she fostered rescues, made cat toys – little balls with bells and stuffed mice, many stuffed with catnip. Other tables contained homemade jams and relishes, quilts and wall hangings, homemade dolls, and woodwork, from bird feeders and shelves to cutting boards and spoons.

Maggie was giving away cups of cider and apple cider donuts in exchange for a donation to the local animal shelter, and there was a bake sale to benefit the local church. The was also a hot dog cart, a BBQ food truck, and one that served cotton candy and fried dough.

“This kind of reminds me of Sleepyside’s Old Home Days,” Dan said.

Minus the rides and games the Sawyerville Craft Fair & Halloween Festival did have the same feel.

Mart made a donation and got them some cider and donuts. They ate the donuts while watching the costume judging and apple dunking contests. Dan did some Christmas shopping – he got a pair of fingerless gloves and a hat with ear flaps and balls in a camo knit from Joyce’s stall for Bill Regan (Mart could imagine him wearing both) and a cloth doll for Diana’s baby.

Diana had met her husband George in college. They’d gotten married after graduation and two years later had a bouncing baby girl. George was a stay-at-home dad until Di finished her PhD. The decision had been made easier by Di’s father offering to help them out until they’d both finished their degrees and could work. He assured them he was doing it for little Kathleen, who needed a parent home with her during her early months, which made it easiery for Di and George to swallow their pride and accept.

Mart had met George at the wedding, but had only seen Kathleen in photos. It suddenly struck Mart how much he’d missed because he hadn’t wanted to chance running into Dan.

“What’s wrong?” Dan said, sensing Mart’s mood.

“I’ve never met Kathleen,” Mart said.

Dan squeezed Mart’s shoulder. “You can meet her this Christmas.”

“Yeah, of course.” Mart shook off the melancholy.

They were eating pulled pork at one of the picnic tables when Dan said, “Look who’s here.”

Mart followed the direction of Dan’s gaze and saw Ted Wilkins. Ted must’ve felt the weight of their gazes because he glanced their way. Dan smiled and raised a hand in greeting. Ted gave them a curt nod and turned to disappear in the crowd. Mart didn’t want to make small talk with Ted Wilkins, but he couldn’t help thinking that Ted really wasn’t a people person. Mart glanced at Dan, who was staring after Ted with a contemplated expression.

“What?”

“If Ted’s here he’s not at the farm.” Dan looked at Mart. “How do you feel about talking a walk?”

Mart’s heart thumped with excitement. And a little fear. “I thought we weren’t supposed to do anything stupid?”

“ _You_ weren’t supposed to do anything stupid without me,” Dan said.

Mart studied Dan’s face. “Let’s do it.”

~*~*~*~

Mart stopped by Joyce’s stall to let her know they’d be back to help her load up the truck.

“I’m sure you have better things to do on your day off.”

“We’ll be here,” Mart said. “If we’re not, call us. It’s important.”

Joyce got a furrow between her eyes. “What are you two boys up to?”

“We’ll tell you all about it later,” Mart promised.

They returned to the cottage so Dan could get his service weapon and badge, just in case. Dan paused as he pulled his jacket on over the shoulder holster. “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“I did find something out about Ted.”

“You said you didn’t find anything.”

“I didn’t at first. I did another search on his ‘known associates’ and discovered that some of them have connections to a criminal named Jonas Christman. He’s into drugs, gun running, forced prostitution . . . I mentioned the situation to Captain Gaines of the New York State Police, I met him during my interview process, but they can’t do anything without more evidence of wrongdoing. I was planning to tell you all this, then figure out a way to get back there, but when I saw Ted at the Festival I leapt at the chance. I should’ve told you first.” Dan looked at Mart. “You don’t have to do this.”

“The hell I don’t!” If there really was something bad going on back there, they had to do whatever they could to stop it. And no way was Mart letting Dan go back there by himself.

Mart called Mr. Gunderson to ask for permission to take a hike on his property. Mart mentioned wanting to show Dan the creek that Mr. Gunderson had once shown him – there was a small waterfall and swimming hole. Mr. Gunderson was happy to allow it. Mart felt bad about the deception, but if they discovered nothing Mr. Gunderson would be none the wiser. If there was something illegal going on back there, he’d thank them for rooting it out.

“What do you think is going on back there?” Mart asked Dan when they were in the pick-up.

“This would be a good place to hide, and even hand off, illegal weapons, or a way-station for the women, and men, he forces into a life of prostitution,” Dan said. “They could be transporting the weapons in that truck you saw.”

Mart pictured the Gunderson farm in his mind to determine the best place to begin their hike in. Their destination being nowhere near the creek, unfortunately. Mart took a dirt back road and turned into a field. He drove his truck to the back corner of the field to a tree line. If they walked through the tree line they should come out on the path that led back to the spot where the mystery investor was supposedly hosting a private four-wheeler club, or whatever was really going on back there.

The only time Mart had noticed activity there it had been late at night, but they didn’t want to take any chances at being spotted so they stayed inside the tree line that ran parallel to the deeply rutted dirt path. Ruts that hadn’t been made by pick-up trucks hauling ATV trailers, but rather by large trucks similar to the one Mart had seen pulling out a few weeks ago.

Dan routinely stopped to check his phone for service in case they needed to make an emergency call. Mart’s belly got heavier each time Dan did it, and he wondered if this had been the stupidest idea ever.

The hike took the better part of an hour, but they finally reached the end of the useable land. It looked nothing like Mart remembered it. Someone had brought in an excavator and leveled a portion of the rocky hillside. On that land they’d built – built was too strong a word, more like put up – a hut.

Dan put a hand on Mart’s arm before he could step out of the shelter of the trees. At Mart’s look, Dan gestured towards the hut. Upon closer inspection Mart noticed the cameras. There was also a large padlock on what appeared to be the only door. And a noxious smell.

Mart wrinkled his nose. “What is that smell? It reminds me of acetone.” He’d been exposed to the scent of nail polish remover a lot when he still lived at home. Trixie hadn’t been a fan of nail polish, but Honey, Di and Bobby had been.

“Let’s get out of here,” Dan said. His face wore a grave expression.

“What is it?” Mart glanced back at the hut as if he could see what had set Dan off.

“Talk later,” Dan said authoritatively. “Walk first.”

Dan set a steady pace as they retraced their steps back to where they’d left the pick-up. They walked for fifteen minutes, putting a fair distance between them and the hut, before Dan told Mart of his suspicions.

“A meth lab!” Mart exclaimed. “Someone put a meth lab out here?” Mart couldn’t believe that someone had sullied the area he now called home with something as awful as a meth lab. Not only were they making drugs there, but Mart had heard about these kinds of labs exploding.

They were about halfway back to the pick-up when Mart heard something loud. “Something’s coming.”

Even though they were hidden in the trees, Mart and Dan both ducked down. A few minutes later a large truck came into sight. It looked like the one Mart had spotted. The truck passed them, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake.

Dan waited until the truck was out of sight before standing. He stared after the truck with a contemplative look. “They’re either delivering ingredients or picking up a batch.”

“But there’s no one there,” Mart pointed out.

“Unless there are.”

“But . . . You mean they’re locked inside that building?”

“I need to make a phone call,” Dan said.

~*~

Mart and Dan stepped out of the trees near where they’d left the truck. The sight that met them there caused Mart to stop in his tracks, stumbling forward when Dan ran into his back.

“What’s wrong?” Dan said.

Mart slowly raised his hands, unable to take his eyes off the muzzle of the gun Ted Wilkins had pointed at them. “Gun,” Mart said.

“You two should’ve minded your own business,” Ted said.

Dan stepped around Mart and stood at Mart’s side. His hands were also raised. “You don’t want to do this,” Dan said calmly. “I’ve already called the police. You don’t want a murder rap on top of the drug charges.”

Ted snarled and shook the gun at Dan. “You. I knew you were gonna be trouble. I should’ve killed you when you first showed up.”

Dan shook his head. “Hindsight, huh?”

Mart wondered what Dan was doing. He saw Ted’s finger tighten on the trigger. Mart took an unplanned step forward and yelled, “No!”

Taken by surprise, Ted swung his arm so the gun pointed at Mart. Dan shoved Mart aside and dove for Ted’s knees. Mart heard them both go down and the sound of the gun going off.

Heart in his throat, Mart pulled himself to his feet and peered around the pick-up. Dan and Ted were wrestling for control of the gun. At any one time Mart couldn’t tell who was in position to shoot the other. Fear clogged Mart’s throat as he moved closer. Mart waited for his chance, and when Ted’s arm was raised above his head Mart stomped on his wrist, just missing Dan’s fingers.

Ted screamed in pain.

“Let go of the gun,” Mart demanded. He put more of his weight on Ted’s wrist. “Unless you want me to break it.”

With a howl of outrage, Ted released the gun. Mart leaned over to pick it up with the sleeve of his flannel shirt pulled down over his fingers. He waited until Dan gave him the signal before raising his boot off Ted’s wrist.

It probably shouldn’t have been so hot, considering the circumstances, but Mart was a little turned on by the way Dan flipped Ted onto his stomach and pulled his arms behind his back. Especially given that he’d been scared enough to nearly lose control of his bladder just moments ago.

“Got anything we can use to tie him up?” Dan said.

Mart shook himself out of that train of thought. He looked into the truck bed where the end of a bale of twine sat right where he’d left it. Mart carefully set the gun on the bed and took out the twine. Mart cut a length of twine with his pocketknife and watched Dan bind Ted’s wrists. Mart cut another length for Ted’s ankles.

Once Ted was immobilized Dan searched him, coming up with a Bowie knife in a sheath on his belt, a cell phone, and a wallet. Dan placed the items he’d taken off of Ted in the bed of the pick-up with the gun, and made sure there was no bullet in the chamber and that the safety was on.

Now that it was over Mart’s knees went weak. Dan caught Mart before he fell and set him on the bumper. Mart leaned back against the tailgate. “What do we do now?”

Dan held up a finger and pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket. He kept one hand on Mart’s arm as he resumed the conversation Ted had interrupted. Mart faded in and out, hearing Dan’s voice as background noise until Dan looked up at the sky and said, “Yeah, I hear something.”

Mart raised his eyes and within moments the sound Mart also heard resolved itself into two helicopters. The choppers flew over them and kept going in the direction of where they’d found the hut.

“What’s going on?” Mart said.

“They’re probably dropping SWAT in.”

“We should tell Mr. Gunderson what’s going on,” Mart said. “He should hear about all of this from us.”

Ted gave a nasty laugh.

“Shut up,” Dan said.

Ted ignored Dan’s warning. “How do you think I knew you were out here?”

“What?” Mart said.

Dan took his badge out of the inside pocket of his jacket and clipped it to the front pocket of his jeans. “You have the right to remain silent, asshole.”

“You’re a cop?” Ted let out a string of curse words.

“You’re telling me that Mr. Gunderson knew about the drugs?” Mart said to Dan, ignoring Ted.

“He knew something. He warned Ted that we were snooping around, told him to ‘take care’ of us.”

“How do you know that?” Mart said, still not wanting to believe it.

“I saw the text thread on Ted’s phone. Idiot had left it open.”

Mart blinked to clear his eyes. “Mr. Gunderson? He was good to me when I worked for him.”

“People change,” Dan said. “I’m sorry.”

Mart’s hands shook as he thought about Mr. Gunderson knowing about the drugs and sending Ted out here to kill them. “You’d think I’d be more used to people pointing a gun at me with all the crap Trixie got us into.”

“I hope you never have to get used to that,” Dan said.

They held hands, Mart possibly gripping Dan’s too tightly, as the sound of sirens grew closer.

~*~*~*~

“I can’t believe it,” Joyce said, pausing in dishing up a bowl of soup. She shook her head and poured another ladleful into the bowl. She filled a second bowl and set them in front of Mart and Dan. “Eat up. You both look like you’re about to fall over.”

Mart figured he felt at least twice as bad as he looked. He’d been questioned by several different officers from the various law enforcement organizations that took part in the raid. Even though Dan had made sure they knew that Mart was a witness and a friend, it was grueling. Just going over the same ground again and again.

Dan told Mart he could go home when they were done questioning him, but Mart didn’t want to leave Dan behind, so he sat in the passenger seat of the pick-up and closed his eyes while action went on around him. Mart found out later that the takedown of the meth lab was done smoothly. The two men who’d arrived in the truck were shot when they pulled weapons. One would live to be questioned later.

None of the people inside the lab put up a fight. It turned out they were illegal immigrants who’d been forced to make the drug in order to pay for their passage into the States, and that of their families. Mart hoped they’d be given the medical and psychological treatment they deserved after the trauma they’d endured, rather than arrested or immediately shipped home.

Mr. Gunderson, on the other hand, hadn’t wanted to be taken alive. He’d come out of the house firing a shot gun at the officers who’d come to arrest him. They called it suicide by cop. He’d left a letter for his daughter. Mart wondered whether she’d been informed of her father’s death yet, or if she was blithely living her life, unaware.

Mart shook. He forgot where they were when Dan put an arm around his shoulders, and he leaned into Dan.

“You okay?” Dan said softly.

“I can’t stop thinking about Mr. Gunderson.”

“I know. It’s okay to be sad.”

“He was going to have us killed,” Mart said, as if he needed to convince himself of the horrible truth.

“Yeah, but I bet he felt really bad about it.”

Mart snorted a laugh and the tears he’d been fighting back filled his eyes. “Oh, god.” Mart grabbed a napkin off the table and wiped his eyes, then blew his nose. “You’re such a jerk.”

Dan just grinned at him. It was weak, but it made Mart feel better. Mart let out a breath and turned his attention back to Joyce and Bob. Who were both staring across the table at Mart and Dan. Mart’s shoulders stiffened without his permission despite the small smile on Joyce’s face. “Um . . .”

Dan went tense in response to Mart’s reaction. “Is this going to be a problem?”

“Of course not!” Joyce said.

“Mart didn’t say anything to us,” Bob said, “but he didn’t have to. His smile was a pretty big tell.”

“You smiled?” Dan said.

“Shut up.” Mart’s cheeks heated under the regard of the other three.

“Besides, you’ve already kissed him in front of me,” Joyce reminded them. “I’m sure a little hug won’t shock us too much.”

“Thank you,” Mart said.

“You’re welcome,” Joyce said.

“Eat your soup before it gets cold,” Bob said gruffly.

After the day they’d had Mart didn’t think he’d be able to eat anything, but the first spoonful reminded Mart that it had been a long time since that pulled pork. It didn’t hurt that Joyce’s soup rivaled Moms’ and that her homemade bread was amazing.

“This whole thing is going to be big news,” Dan warned.

“I told them to keep my name out of the papers,” Mart said, “so you shouldn’t be bothered.”

“We don’t care about that,” Joyce said. “We’re just glad you’re both okay.”

~*~

“So,” Mart said as they snuggled on the couch in front of the fire Dan had built, Jelly laying across both their feet. “You got the job.”

“You caught that, huh?” Dan ducked his head. “I didn’t want you to find out like that. I had this whole thing planned to tell you.”

“You had a thing planned?”

“I was going to make you a nice dinner, open a bottle of wine, light some candles . . .”

“I wondered why you brought a cooler full of food,” Mart said. “I figured you’d taken one look at my fridge the last time you were here and thought I was trying to starve you.”

“I wasn’t worried about that. I saw how much of Moms’ food you had in the freezer.”

Mart chuckled wearily. “I guess _she_ thinks I’m gonna starve.”

“She’s not worried about that; she taught you how to cook, after all. I think she just wanted you to have a taste of home.”

“She won’t have to worry about that now.”

At Dan’s confused look, Mart poked him in the chest. “You, dummy.”

“Oh.” Dan grinned. “Yeah.”

“So. When do you start?”

“Three weeks. I’m gonna give two weeks notice, and I’m taking a week to find a place to live.”

“You don’t want to live here?” Mart said, his stomach twisting as he spoke the words out loud.

“I’d love to live here with you,” Dan said, “but I think we should take that step a little slower than we took the ‘hopping into the sack’ step.”

“You don’t think five years was slow enough?”

“You got me there. Hopefully the next step won’t take that long.” Dan looked around the small living room. “As much as I love being here, we might both need some space as we get used to this whole thing.”

“I agree,” Mart said. “I love this cottage, but it might be kind of small for two men and a dog.”

Dan pressed his lips to Mart’s. “You know what that means.”

“What?”

“When we _are_ ready to take that next step, we’ll have to look for a house that’s big enough for all of us.”

“Wow. That sounds so adult.”

“I’m sure we’ll manage.”

They fell silent, with only the sound of the crackling fire and Jelly’s soft snores filling the room

“There will probably be more questions tomorrow,” Dan said, his voice low in deference to the quiet surrounding them.

Mart sighed. “Yeah.” He wished he could forget about everything that had happened after they left the Festival. Tomorrow would also hold a phone call home to tell Moms before she heard about it from someone else, and probably with Trixie once the news broke. “But not tonight, right?”

“Not tonight,” Dan agreed, and let Mart pull him into a kiss.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I recently read ‘The Mystery on the Mississippi’ for LJBookBingo, in which Mart was skeptical of Trixie’s hunches. I thought it would be interesting for ~Mart to have a hunch and this story was born.
> 
> 2\. One reason I was excited to write a story in this fandom is because I could set it right in my back yard. Sawyerville is completely made up, but it’s an amalgam of several such small areas I’m familiar with. All the other places mentioned are real (including the ones that didn’t get named), so if you want to go hiking at Vroman’s Nose (the views really are spectacular) or eat at the Red Barn or visit the bakery, then you can!
> 
> 3\. In case you’re wondering, SUNY Cobleskill started out as a two-year Ag school, but it’s now a 4-year college and offers degrees in areas other than Ag.


End file.
